


Morning

by StAnni



Category: The OA (TV)
Genre: Angst, Complicated Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 20:51:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18506863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StAnni/pseuds/StAnni
Summary: He wishes nobody could take anything back and he could grip the back of French’s arm – make him speak.





	Morning

French sits in front, next to BBA – and he listens to her talk as the road unfurls further and further in the headlights stretching out before them into morning. The car is silent, save for BBA’s quiet voice keeping them all linked up, alive – telling a story about her brother when they were children.

Buck can see just a bit of French’s profile – his olive skin looks luminous in the drawing dawn and his lashes, long, glint silkily every two or so blinks. 

Steve and Jesse, next to Buck, sit quietly – taking in every word. At the very back Angie is stretched out, still asleep. She looks happy, or content at least.

But to Buck the morning is a dangerous tide – and he is pulled further away and out - as if the shadows of the fading night are drawing into the car through the cracked open window, filtering through his skin, hooking there and pulling, seeping him away – and there is nothing that he can do about it. 

French has not spoken to him since he got back to the motel the night before, sneaking in just after midnight – smelling of sweat and someone else’s cologne. And as he turned over, trying not to make a sound, he looked straight at Buck – straight in the eyes, and then immediately away.

If Buck’s heart has never been broken before – it broke then, in that silent moment, shattering out into dust. 

They had been together three times. And Buck had held that to his heart and recited each memory to himself – refusing to forget even the smallest detail. 

The first time – frantic and desperate – his heart thundering in his chest, French careful but wanting, had kissed his neck, soft and wet as he pushed inside slowly – swallowing a groan that made hunger, love and need coil inside of Buck as he arched his back – losing himself in every second. 

The second time had been different, more intimate, sombre and slow – the night that OA was taken away in the ambulance, and then the last, third time, just a few days ago, French had gently pulled him aside and wordlessly lead him to the van.  
On the very seat he is sitting on, French had kissed Buck’s open mouth as he unbuckled his belt, leaning in close, and pulled Buck into the van and onto his lap. It had seemed more intense, somehow, the deft of French’s fingers inside of him, and then how easily he canted his hips, entering with a stifled cry – like it had been familiar, something more. 

It had meant nothing and now, even if he tried, he couldn’t pry the foolish grip of his heart around these memories. He felt small and filled with empty, cold morning air. 

French moves his head slightly, to look outside, and it is as if the world turns on its axis with him and Buck can’t help but stare.

He wishes the world to stop for just a moment.

He wishes he could take everything back.

He wishes nobody could take anything back and he could grip the back of French’s arm – make him speak. 

But nothing happens and BBA, glances back at Steve over the hum of the engine - having lost French’s attention and continues with her story. 

Something about her brother. Something about the sea.


End file.
